Intel-4522

"Are you alright?"1

I stared at the man who asked this, a doctor2

"How do you feel?"3

Ah, now that's a good question. How do I feel?4

Happy? Sad? Crazy? Angry?5

"What?" I pretended that I couldn't hear him properly. I liked the question. I don't know why, I just did.6

The doctor smiled and repeated the question.7

The smile threw me off for a while and I couldn't hear him. I already knew what the question was.8

"I don't... I- I don't... know"9

The doctor's smile turned to a frown10

"Well you must have some idea!"11

I don't remember anything about my childhood. Only the bad parts. I was found covered in blood. My parents were worried. Even more so when DNA tests showed that the blood was not my own.12

The doctor started. He was contemplating something. He didn't know much about me. I asked specifically for a doctor who didn't.13

"Are you that boy who was in the news?"14

"Whu--"
"Several years ago, an abondoned baby."
"Yes. How did you--"
"Did you know what was so amazing about you when you were found? Do you know what made you so special you were put in the news internationally?"
"What?"
"The words tatooed on your back."15

I never knew about that. I've never noticed.16

"I can remove them, using a formula used for removing tatooes."17

"Yes please."18

The doctor applied a small bit of the cream.19

"Hm, that's odd"
"What?"
"It's not being re--" He stopped suddenly
"What?" I asked
"Have you ever seen the numbers before?"
"Well I can't really see my neck now, can I?" I didn't notice my rudeness. I couldn't feel. So I couldn't feel sorrow or embarresment.
"I'll write it down for you..." He began scratching away at a pad which he handed to me.20

It simply said the following. Intel-4522.21

Everything went black22

I waited in the dark23

I occasionally saw what I was doing but, I can't remember it now.24

I was 13 years old when this happened. I awoke. I was on the street. I didn't get a good look around. I blacked out again. I awoke. I was in my own home. I was covered in blood. Blood that was not my own. That's when I saw it.25

While I read the paper the doctor came round the back. He prised my back off and saw circuitry. I must have patched myself up. But who's blood is this? And more importantly. What am I?